


Te amo

by ChangingbacktoBellamort500



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Even Villains Need Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Height Differences, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Miscarriage, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangingbacktoBellamort500/pseuds/ChangingbacktoBellamort500
Summary: Written for the love/valentines challenge.Search my face for the answerOur love is stronger than lustA match made in heaven or hell.So dance with me babyAway from these prying eyesI'll swallow your lies like honeyHold me close now.Chase away my ghostsAnd I'll make the world kneel for youWe are both drenched in sinBut everything I ever did was for youSo lie beside nowKeep the storm awayLet me kiss you in the rain.
Relationships: The Homelander | John/Madelyn Stillwell
Kudos: 40





	1. Dinner

Madelyn was cooking in the kitchen while he was sitting in her living room. He doesn't know what she's making, but it smells delicious. Homelander had heard from many that she's a fabulous cook.

Homelander felt both joy and nervousness at being in her home, her private sanctuary. 

There are a handful of photos of friends, but none of her family scattered around the place he notes. 

He'd been here before a handful of times, but he'd never made it as far as the living room.

Because on those occasions, he'd burst into her home, cheeks red with anger about something he didn't want to do or how someone had pissed him off. 

Madelyn on those occasions would cross her arms and sigh, looking unimpressed by his unwanted intrusion and outburst. They would stand in the hallway; he'd glare, and she'd do the same until he caved and left. The next day the issue that had got him so worked up would be sorted.

But this time was different; she had invited him to dinner. The invite had come out of the blue, but it was more than welcome by him. 

Homelander is glad that unlike him, Madelyn doesn't have super hearing otherwise she'd hear his heart beating fast, thumping against his chest while the butterflies in his stomach did somersaults. 

She was the only person who could make him feel like this. Unsure and nervous. He could have any woman he wanted; he was a superhero and America's golden boy. Yet here he was, fidgeting like a teenage boy on his first date.

He wonders how many other men she's cooked for; jealousy burns in his chest at the thought of any other man being inside her home. Her cooking dinner for them, them sitting on the sofa waiting for her. 

Homelander think there is something more intimate about this than sex. Sex was meaningless, but Madelyn letting people into her private sanctuary and cooking for them would mean she cared for them. He can't stand the thought of that.

"Dinner is ready," Madelyn tells him standing in the doorway, her voice soft and soothing, tearing him away from his thoughts and his attention focused only her. "I know you don't drink alcohol so I brought a non-alcoholic wine that everyone swears goes great with the food,".

* * *

The food is delicious; he isn't surprised Madelyn can cook after all she was the type to ensure that she excelled in everything she did. He especially likes the flavour and texture of the mashed potatoes; Homelander mirrors the way she eats her food, and he isn't sure why other than it seems a perfect way not to make a fool himself.

"Why did you invite me to dinner?" As soon as the words are out, Homelander wishes he could shove them back into his mouth and unsay them. 

Madelyn takes a sip of her wine; her body language doesn't change she's still relaxed, and her eyes twinkle in a way that tells him she had expected that question to crop up at some point. "I've been busy lately with one thing or another, and I wanted to catch up with you. Dinner is the perfect way to do that. I know eating in restaurants makes you uncomfortable, so I choose to cook for you,".

"The food is good," he comments, because he doesn't know how else to reply. He's never been good at small talk. Sure, he can charm the shit out of politicians and journalists, the public but most of what he said to them was Madelyn's words. Speeches and scripts, jokes and topics she had given him.

"You looking forward to your annual calendar photoshoot?" Madelyn asks, cutting into the chicken on her plate. 

"You know I hate those things. I don't know why you insist I do them," Homelander replies, nose wrinkling in disgust at having to stand there for hours; nothing more than a pretty piece of meat to photograph that had to have a big cheesy grin.

"They make a lot of money, and you know it. It appeals to the young and old. You look wholesome enough people have no issue with buying their children one. You're handsome enough that adults can still drool over you," Madelyn answers. They had this conversation many times before. She looks amused by having it again. He's not sure if her amusement pisses him off or he finds it endearing.

"Please tell me we aren't using the photographer from last year. What was his name again?" He asks, he hadn't liked the man. First off he was late, secondly, he spent the entire time flirting with Madelyn, and thirdly he barely knew what he was doing.

"Greg, I think and God no. He wasn't my choice in the first place. But his brother works on eighty-two," Madelyn answers, before taking another bite of her food. 

Homelander is glad that she didn't seem to like this Greg anymore than he had.

* * *

"Okay, so what is this?" Homelander asks, staring at the bowl of dessert in front of him. The whole thing is a pale red gloopy mess in a bowl, he can't help, but be apprehensive.

"It tastes better than it looks I promise," Madelyn getting his spoon from his dish with a little bit on it and putting it to his mouth. "Trust me, okay. Now open up,".

He opens up his mouth and lets her feed him. She wasn't wrong; it did taste better than it looked. Smooth and creamy, sweet and milky. Homelander doesn't know which he's enjoying more, the dessert or the fact she's feeding him it.

That familiar feeling is back in the pit of his stomach where he knows he wants something from her, but can't name what it is. 

"See I told you it was good," Madelyn boasts, feeding him another spoonful. She looks so smug. 

She wipes his chin and the side of his lip once she's finished feeding him. He notices her dessert is still untouched, but she doesn't seem to care. Homelander can't help, but stare at her as she studies him, he doesn't know why she is or what she is searching for in his face.

When she brushes his cheek with her thumb he knows that whatever it is she was looking for Madelyn had found it, and she likes it.

His heart beats in a strange way, he's never felt the emotion feeling it now it's exciting and terrifying.


	2. Fly me Home

Madelyn looks stunning in the black dress she's wearing, it clings to her body perfectly. Showing enough flesh to keep people looking, concealing enough to look classy. 

Homelander can't tear his eyes off her, he's not paying attention to half the crap coming out of the senator's mouth, and he knows he should. Tonight is important and means everything to her to get the senators here on her side. 

He's not the only one who is looking at her, some men and women are wearing the same expression as him. Awe and want. Madelyn is aware of this. He knows she is aware of it because she plays to the eyes the right way.

She keeps them transfixed and under her spell. If Homelander believed in magic he would swear she witch.

Homelander nods his head at whatever the senator said, by the smile on the red faced man beside him it was the right thing to do. 

The senator continues rambling, he's one of those people that is so egotistical that automatically assumes everyone hangs on his every word even when it's clear they aren't. Homelander is grateful for that tonight.

He tells himself he has to focus, but when she takes a sip of her champagne and turns her head slightly, their eyes for a fraction of a second meet, he knows that isn't going to happen. 

Like the others, he's a moth and she's a flame. There is no escaping the allure, it's hardwired by nature and cannot be fought.

He watches Madelyn's head tip back slightly, a soft laugh escapes her mouth. The laugh he has come to recognise as fake, but the morons around her never would know that.

* * *

Madelyn had gone outside for a cigarette. Homelander didn't even bother making an excuse when he followed her outside less than a minute later. 

The air had a slight chill to it, but Madelyn didn't seem fazed by it; when she saw him approach her smiled softly, and the look in her eyes told him that she had known he would follow. After all, no one knew him better than she did.

"So do you think we have everyone on our side?" She asks, before taking a puff on her cigarette. The look of bliss on her face as she gets her nicotine fix always makes him smile. Madelyn has sworn at least a hundred times she'll quit smoking, but never actually does.

"Everyone but Andrews and Franklin," Homelander replies, he wishes he could make everyone inside disappear, so it was just them here. Any moment now she'll go inside, her professional mask will replace the relaxed demeanour she has with him right now.

"I have enough dirt on both them to ensure they play ball," she replies, throwing the stub of her cigarette on the ground and putting it out with her shoe. His head tilts slightly in curiosity at what she has on them, she picks up on the curiosity right away.

"I keep you away from the blackmail side part of this job unless necessary, but let's just say both had the pleasure of knowing Doppelganger intimately on camera,"

"Why do they always fall for that trick?" Homelander wonders out loud.

"Because lust is an extremely powerful thing sometimes more so than love," Madelyn answers, her hand resting on his arm. "Now how do I look? Makeup and hair still good,"

"You look breathtaking," He answers truthfully, she smiles at him and his heart skips a beat.

* * *

He can get her home faster than any car. Homelander knows she hates flying if she wasn't exhausted then she would never agree to this. So for once, he's kind of glad the event went on until nearly four in the morning. Everyone seemed happy, but tired as they began dwindling out one by one until it was only the two of them left. 

There are no words to describe how good it feels to have the wind brushing against his cheek, her in his arms, her arms wrapped his neck. He can smell her perfume, the lingering smell of champagne and the moisture she uses on her skin. Homelander notes she's changed her shampoo, from summer fruits to a flower scented one. He likes it.

"If you drop me I swear I'll come back as a ghost and haunt you," Madelyn mumbles into his neck, holding on to him tighter. He just laughs in reply. Right now he is a God soaring through the sky with a fragile fleshed mortal in his arms. 

They arrive at her house much quicker than he would have liked. The moment she's out of his arms, he feels the loss of the warmth of her body and their physical closeness. 

He watches her fumble with her keys to open the door. There is a lump in his throat and a pain in his chest that he can't explain at the thought of saying "Goodbye," any moment. Homelander doesn't want this night to end, but he can't find the words to tell her that.

"You look tired," Madelyn says, stretching out her hand and offering it to him. "Sleep here tonight,".

They both know she can't say the words "I want you to stay with me,". Madelyn could never let herself be that vulnerable with anyone. Trusting him enough to fly her home was more trust than she would put in anyone else.

He finds that he doesn't need her to say those exact words when he takes her hand before they walk through her front door. 

And he knows they can't turn back from this point as they walk up the stairs. He doesn't want to either.

He doesn't know if what they share is love, but he's sure whatever it is stronger than lust and if lust was sometimes stronger than love well what they had was stronger than anything.


	3. Perfect Match

Homelander stands in the corner of the room, arms folded against his chest. He stands tense and rigid; it's clear to everyone that he is unhappy. Madelyn's demeanour is different. Her stance is relaxed, her facial expression soft as the pair speak in hushed whispers.

He's paying attention to every word she's saying while eavesdropping on the conversation going on, on the other side of the room.

"Knock off flirting with Stillwell," Anna hisses, in Drake's ear. "Homelander looks ready to rip your heart out,".

Homelander couldn't deny her claim, because he would love to tear Drake's heart out then dump his body in the ocean somewhere. The only thing stopping him is that Madelyn wouldn't approve of it.

"So, he and Stillwell are a thing huh," Drake replies with a cocky grin.

He doesn't seem fazed by Homelander glaring at him from across the room; which pisses Homelander off. That annoyance must have shown on his face because Madelyn places her hand on his arm.

"Who knows," Anna responds, shifting uncomfortably at the topic. She didn't like gossip, yet she wanted to protect Drake from Homelander's anger. "Professionally, at least they are partners in everything. Personally, no one knows, and nobody asks,".

Drake is still grinning. Homelander would give his left arm just to laser him into nothingness. While Madelyn hadn't responded to the man's flirting yet, he couldn't deny that for someone so ordinary he was handsome. The thought that she could find attractive makes Homelander want to break someone's neck, but also throw up.

He knows he's breathing heavily through his nostrils in annoyance because he can hear it, but right now he doesn't care.

"Listen to me," Madelyn whispers soothingly. "We need to get through the afternoon then later at home we'll discuss this properly,".

He nods his head, fixes his face into a cheesy grin and drops the attitude. Madelyn winks at him before they walk back over to Anna and Drake.

Homelander won't tell Madelyn about the conversation he heard between the pair. He wouldn't want her to retreat from him, and she would if she thought others at Vought suspected how close they were.

"So where were we?" Madelyn asks, her voice full of fake cheer. It amazes him how quickly she can put a mask in place to be what those around her want, think or need her to be in that moment.

* * *

They were home. Well, her home anyway. It was gone eight o'clock usually they didn't get home until much later. But he was fed up and needed her full attention, she could sense his restraints and self control was close to snapping. Each hour worn away until it was hanging by a fragile thread.

"Are you still pouting about earlier?" Madelyn asks, kicking off her shoes and running her fingers through her hair. She doesn't seem mad about it, she seems amused more than anything. This isn't the first time they have been here. Him being jealous, her having to soothe him and reassure him.

"First off I don't pout," Homelander huffs, frowning when she shot him a look that said "Bullshit". "Secondly, I still think that Vought would be stronger without Drake working there. The man's an idiot,".

Madelyn let out a sigh as she sat down on the sofa, he wastes no time in laying his head on her lap. Her fingers brush through his hair.

A small content sigh escapes his lips, he loves this. It always makes him feel at ease. The annoyances throughout the day almost washed away, almost.

"Drake isn't an idiot. He's good at what he does," Madelyn tells him, he feels his body tense slightly at her praising someone else. "It's just his personality is terrible,".

Homelander relaxes again; it's good that she can't stand him personally. But he wishes that neither had to work with him or that professionally she didn't have a high about Drake.

"I still think that he's not that much of an asset," he mumbles, twirling the button of her shirt enough to keep his fingers busy, but not enough, so it breaks. This is one of her favourite shirts and he wouldn't want to damage it. 

"You can't get rid off anyone that shows the slightest hint of being attracted to me," Madelyn replies, her fingers trailing down his cheek. He leans into her touch; he loves the softness of her skin against his. "That's what this is about and you know it. You really are going to have to learn to control your jealousy,".

"Didn't you get rid of Jessica because she kept flirting with me and that annoyed you," Homelander shots back and Madelyn smirks looking down at him. "No. I got rid of her because she was leaking stories to the press the fact she kept flirting with you made the decision easier true,".

"Two days later she was found dead in her apartment I suppose you have no idea how that happened,".

Homelander can't help smiling when she rolls her eyes; because they both know that she did even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. He loves that for once she let her emotions rule; her anger and jealousy rather than her logic. 

He hadn't been attracted to Jessica in the slightest. She was beautiful there was no denying that, but she was weak. Of course, he flirted back just to see it aggravate Madelyn. Homelander still has doubts she was leaking stuff to the press. It didn't fit her personality. He wonders as he catches the whiff of Madelyn perfume whether she had decided to kill Jessica first or get her fired then kill but in away that no one at Vought care.

"No more than you know how Jack, Henry, Zachary, Alicia to name a few ended up dying," Madelyn says, her tone slightly mocking. 

She kisses his forehead. Her lips are gently pressed against his temple almost like a ghost yet enough to reassure him. In actions she tells him that there could be a hundred Jessicas or a hundred Drakes around them but it didn't matter.

It's at times like this he knows how perfectly matched they are. Cunning and manipulative, jealous and angry, always striving to reach the top. In many ways they were opposites, but even those opposites seemed to sync up in a way that the could thrive off it.


	4. Dancing

The music plays, the lights are soft, they are so close that he is under her spell by the way she moves. Far enough apart to onlookers, they seem nothing more than friends dancing together. The room is full of celebrities, journalists, politicians and Vought employees. Half are dancing; the other half is drinking and schmoozing. It's the way these events always go.

He twirls her around; in this dance, he leads, but even in this, they battle for dominance.

Homelander already knows that he'll lose and submit in the end, it's the way it works between them. But part of the fun for them both is' the battle, the fighting and the game playing.

Madelyn moves with grace, he moves with uncertainty but not enough that anyone other than her' knows. She smiles up at him, reassuring and gentle. Despite being unsure of his movements he doesn't want the song to end, he doesn't want the dance to end. 

He likes the way her eyes shine with contentment and joy, the way her cheeks are a soft tinge of pink, and the way she smiles at this moment. Why would he ever want it to end?

They are both aware of the world around them as they dance, as they move in their own secret world. His heart beats fast, hers doesn't beat faster than normal. The music is almost coming to an end, they both know it and then they'll part.

He'll spend the rest of the night charming with a cheesy smile, she'll spend the rest of it being delightful and coaxing people to do what she wanted.

* * *

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" Bradley Chuck inquires, as a waitress hands him a glass of champagne.

Homelander neither likes' or dislikes' this man. He's one of Vought's investors, but not overly involved; as long as he sees profit from his investment, he's happy. 

He prefers those types, the ones that care about the money but don't interfere. Homelander thinks things would run a lot smoother at Vought if others were like him.

"I used to watch my dad dance with my mom. Every Saturday they'd move the furniture aside in the living room, and they would dance. I thought it was magical," Homelander lies, everyone loves the wholesome family stories. It's part of his image. 

Sometimes, he wishes he could tell them the truth about his childhood. He wonders if they would eat up the truth as quickly they devour the lie.

"I remember once watching them dance to the songs on the radio for hours. My mom never looked happier than when she was dancing,".

There is a strange lump in his throat and chest as tells the story. Like swallowing coal only for it to break , then get stuck in two different places. Tonight was going so well, he mentally kicks himself for coming up with a lie that hurts him. He should have said an old girlfriend or he took lessons for these events.

Something about the way he's standing must have made Madelyn believe he was uncomfortable or unhappy because he hears her approaching. He knows her footsteps anywhere, even in a busy, noisy room like this. Homelander lets out a silent sigh of relief. She'll fix this, she'll make the pain go away like she always does.

The scent of her perfume hits him before she's standing between him and Bradley. 

"Homelander was just telling me how he learnt to dance by watching his parents," Bradley tells her with a smile. "What about you Madelyn, how did you learn to dance?".

"First from movies then when I was twelve I attended an older cousin's wedding and demanded every boy dance with me until I perfect it," Madelyn replies with a grin. Her fingertips brush against his hand only for a flash of a second. Enough to reassure him, not enough that anyone would notice and if they did it wouldn't register as anymore than an accidental touch.

Homelander can picture her even back then being demanding and those around caving in to her whims. Those that didn't outright she'd charm and manipulate. None of those boys at that wedding stood a chance. He wonders if they ever see her on the news and remember that day.

"I've never seen you dance at one of these things though," Madelyn comments, putting a lock of hair behind her ear.

"And you aren't likely to everyone either," Bradley says, reaching for his sixth glass of champagne of the night. "I have two left feet, and as much grace as a hippo in roller skates,".

Madelyn lets out a small chuckle, he mimics her behaviour. Bradley is placated, his investment in future projects secured. 

Now Madelyn knows that she subtly manages to excuse herself and Homelander from Bradley's presence. Onto the next person, they need to placate and schmooze.

* * *

"Tonight went great," Madelyn whispers before softly pressing her lips to his. It was more than a ghost kiss but he cherished it. "You were fantastic. Everyone loved you,".

He tilts his head slightly to one side and raises his eyebrow before replying "You sound shocked by this and I don't know why. Most people love me. I'm the Homelander," 

"You can sometimes rub people up the wrong way, but tonight you were a good boy," Madelyn says the last part teasingly. Something in his face must have shown that teasing or not Homelander liked to hear the words "Good boy" out of her mouth.

Because her teeth nip at his earlobe before gently uttering the words into his ear while her hand rests on his chest. There is something in her eyes, like a cat that's just found a new way to toy with a mouse before killing it.

Homelander can't pretend that he doesn't love that look in her eyes, because he does just as much as loved the look in her eyes when they were dancing, earlier that night. 


	5. Away from the eyes of the world

The media were saying he was undercover on a dangerous mission, the truth was he and Madelyn were on holiday; staying at luxurious, private villa away from the prying eyes on the world. All of it being paid for by Vought.

Madelyn had spun it to Vought that the public thinking he was away protecting America was good for business. Once they were hooked on the idea, she gave them the idea of making sure he was put somewhere out of the way to ensure the lie didn't get rumbled.

She let them suggest she go with him. Of course, she knew they would. Once they went around and asked who he got on with best, who would be able to ensure he stayed indoors and didn't go off flying. Everyone knew that Madelyn was only the one capable of doing that.

So here they were enjoying the sunshine while the pricks on eighty-two high fived each other at the money being made and taking credit for it. Without a clue they were manipulated into it.

Everything about it amused him greatly.

Madelyn is sitting at the edge of the pool, her legs dipping in the water. He sits beside her, enjoying a vanilla milkshake. Homelander could get used to this life; nothing to do, no one to save, no one to appease or lie to. It's just them.

It's around one o'clock in the afternoon and the sun is shining beautifully, but there is a gentle breeze that has the scent of cut grass and flowers. This place was heaven. They had another week to enjoy it.

He was surprised how easy they both settled into doing nothing and just relaxing. Madelyn was usually driven by work, it was infectious to the point so was he when he was around her. 

But here she just went with the flow. There own private heaven.

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" Homelander asks Madelyn who is lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling fan. He lies at her side. 

He's not sure why they are doing this only that she had wanted to. Homelander didn't care why either really, he just knows that doing it made her happy and that was enough for him in this moment.

"Why ice cream tastes better when you eat it while you're naked," Madelyn replies, moving slightly to rest her head on his shoulder. "It shouldn't taste better or any different, yet it does,".

"Is this like how you think wine tastes better when drunk in the bath or chips only taste good when watching tv things but it makes no difference with anyone else," He replies while lacing their fingers together. Her skin feels so soft, so smooth.

Homelander would never understand why she thought food or beverages tasted better or worse depending on where she ate it, what she was or wasn't wearing or doing; it was one of those things that would annoy him if anybody else said it but with her, he found it fascinating.

"Everyone else's taste buds are wrong," Madelyn says through a yawn. "Anyway, what do you want for dinner? It's getting late and neither one of us has eaten anything since breakfast. No milkshakes don't count as food, they stop counting as one to anyone over the age of twelve,".

"I don't mind. Whatever you want is fine,". 

Homelander knows she knows what he likes and doesn't, trusts her to pick for him. She's doing that thing again where she hums and thinks to try and decide. He knows she doesn't know when she's doing it. It's another trait that would irritate the hell out of if it were someone else, but with her, it was different.

"I want creamy mushroom pasta for dinner then after dinner, I'll take a shower and after that, we'll watch a movie,". Madelyn in the space of a minute has planned out their night and he, of course, nods his head in agreement. Letting her lead the way like she did in most things.

* * *

Homelander would never understand how Madelyn would sleep nude because it was too hot, but then cocoon herself in a thick duvet. He doesn't mind that she hogs the blanket, she only ever does it in the summer anyway.

She sleeps, he doesn't. He rarely needs to sleep, but he enjoys lying in bed with her anyway. The sheets are silk; soft, smooth and cool against his skin. It's a bit bigger than the bed Madelyn has her house. He's heard her say more than once on this trip she'll upgrade to this when they return home.

He lies on his side, eyes fixed on Madelyn's sleeping form. 

If she were awake would she find his watching and observing romantic or creepy he wonders to himself.

He watches the way her lids twitch every fifty-two seconds, Homelander wonders what she thinks or dreams about when she sleeps. Is her head filled with pleasantness or nastiness, sweet dreams or toxic nightmares?

She claims in the mornings that he asks, that she is one of those people who doesn't remember what she dreams about. He doesn't know whether she's lying or not, but he hopes she isn't. Although it's such a small thing, it's one of things he wouldn't be able to forgive her lying about. 

Every four minutes and ten seconds, her tongue wets her lips. He wonders if everyone does that or if it's just her. Either way, he counts down the minutes and seconds until she does it again. The way her lips part slightly, the way the tip of her tongue just dabs at the lips before retreating back into her mouth is always a joy to watch.

The sleep noises she makes come at random intervals, Madelyn doesn't in her sleep. Homelander can only imagine the secrets she'd spill if she did. 

No, the noises she makes are purring murmurs and mumbles. She only makes those noises on the nights she's happy, calm, and not stressed.

The nights she's angry or sad there is only icy silence. He doesn't know why her moods dictate the sleep noises she makes. It's another one of those things about her that baffles and intrigues him. 


	6. Lies like honey, truth like salt

He can feel the anger coursing through his veins, he's drowning in it. His mind is in a fog of red. The only one who seems unafraid is Madelyn, which is in a twisted way is funny because she's the one he's angry with.

"Jared, Elisa can you come back in about an hour," Madelyn says, her voice soft but firm. The pair nod their head, looking relieved at being able to leave the room. 

He watches them scurry like rats leaving the sinking ship, Madelyn stands with her arms crossed and face unreadable. Silence stretches out between them; the air thick with his rage at her lying to him, and her anger at bursting into her office while she was in a meeting. 

Homelander cracks first, shattering the quiet with the words "When I asked you about my mom you lied to me. You told me you had no idea who she was or why she gave me to Vought,".

"I was protecting you," Madelyn answers, her arms uncrossing and facial features going softer, less icy and defensive. "Lying to you was wrong. I didn't like doing it, but what other choice did I have when I knew the truth would hurt you,".

He stands rigid, anger thumps in his head and heart. Homelander needs more than this excuse from her.

"No one knew what compound v would do or the side effects when she let them pump your body full of it. She knew how Vogelbaum was raising you, but she didn't care. You were nothing more than profit, an experiment and a lab rat to her," Madelyn revealed, her voice cracking slightly. Not in fear, but in a way that Homelander can't name. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you those things. I wanted to protect and take care of you,".

Homelander is still angry with her, but her explanation makes sense, yet he doesn't know where to go from this point. He doesn't know what to do other than stand there brooding.

"Come here," Madelyn says it like it's a request, but they both know it isn't. She leads them to the sofa, she sits; he lies down and curls up with his head resting on her lap.

"I know you're upset and I am sorry for lying to you," Madelyn murmurs, stroking his hair. He lies there, body rigid in anger and partly guilt' for bursting into her office and interrupting her meeting. Guilt is a strange and new emotion, a confusing one that only she manages to make him feel.

"You have told me. Do you know what it was like to find those things out on my own? It would have been easier coming from you," Homelander finally comments, face nuzzling into her stomach.

He's not sure it would have been easier coming from her really, but he wants her to know that her lying hurt. Sure, her lies were easy to swallow like honey, sweet and smooth. The truth was like swallowing lumps of salt, disgusting and rough. But he still had a right to know it.

The anger is slowly ebbing away, with it the hurt grows stronger without the shield of a rage holding it back. He wants her to fix this, make it better, make it make sense in a way that doesn't cause him pain.

"I can't imagine how bad you felt discovering that on your own. I'm sorry," Madelyn apologises again, caressing his face. "You must have felt so hurt and alone. I didn't want that for you. I never wanted that for you,".

"Do you know why she cut contact with Vought?," he asks, he can hear her heart beating inside her chest. Thumping away like normal. It never beats erratically when she lies unlike other people. "It wasn't in the notes,".

"She met a guy, married him and wanted to start a new life and family. Three years after their marriage, she gave birth to a son," Madelyn explains, she's trying to keep it short and factual. Trying not to hurt him at the same time. "Eighteen months later there was a car accident, she survived, her husband and son. Went on downward spiral, drugs and alcohol. Once she'd blown all the money she made from Vought came back for more and threatened to tell the world what was going on,".

He knows there's more to this and he wants to hear her say. "Tell me the rest. I can handle it,".

"Vought paid up. It even offered to send her to rehab. They did it for Vogelbaum more than her. She didn't want it. Shortly after your first public appearance she comes out of the woodwork again. It was a few days after I told you I couldn't find out anything about her actually," Madelyn explains, she's relaxed, calm, telling it like a bedtime story. 

"I was sent to meet her. She wanted more money, named her price. I brought up the subject of maybe having contact with you. Sure, she wasn't perfect but I know that you could have lived with that. Your mother didn't want that. Told me who little you meant to her and I knew then while I hated lying to you, that I had done the right thing. She never got more money. I don't know whether someone higher up ordered it or it was just fate but a few days later she died of an overdose,".

Madelyn has finished. He lies there absorbing this information. His head swimming with confusion. He's no longer angry with her, and she knows it.

"I'll always be here for you," she tells him.

"Do you promise?" He asks, he needs her to swear it and mean it.

"I promise," Madelyn replies, her finger resting at his lip. He doesn't know why he takes it in his mouth, doesn't know if she had planned for him too. He knows that she isn't objecting or weird out by the act, it makes him feel better. More connected to her, less alone in the world.

"Good boy," 


	7. Hold me

The outside world is pitch black; night touches everything. Inside, the scented candles burn, the aroma of vanilla and chocolate fills the room. In the low glow light of the flames of the candles, she holds him.

Homelander isn't sure what the exact time is, he thinks it's after midnight yet not quite one o'clock in the morning. They had gotten to Madelyn's home sometime after eleven after a long and stressful day. It ended up in success, but the road to get there had been a nightmare.

He can't put into words how at peace he feels at this moment with Madelyn holding him close to her like this. 

Homelander wished they could stay like this forever; not in darkness, not in the light somewhere in between, entwined. He knows they can't, but there is no harm in wanting or wishing for things. It's human nature to do those thing while he had the power close to that of God he still held so many traits that the average person had.

Madelyn's mood is unreadable. It has been all day. He doesn't know what's going through her head or how she's feeling usually it worries him, but right now her body is warm and comforting. Her small fingers brush through his hair, soothingly yet lazily. He lets out a content sigh. 

"You like this huh," Madelyn comments, her voice soft and humorous. Breaking the unspoken silence of the room. He doesn't mind, they could lavish in silence or fill every second with noise he wouldn't mind as long they were like this.

"No," he replies, his voice bubbling with happiness. "I hate it. I mean being here is torture,".

He can't stop grinning. It feels good to smile because happy rather than because it looks good for the press or the public.

Madelyn's head tilts as she laughs. It's her real laugh, the one she reserves for him only. "Yes, clearly this hell for you. Complete, and utter anguish,". She kisses the back of his neck.

"But seriously are you happy?" Madelyn asks, and he doesn't know why she's asking, but the question makes his stomach feel odd. "With us and everything,".

"Yes," it's a one-word answer. It's such a simple one, but it's the truth. "Are you?".

"If I wasn't I wouldn't be here," Madelyn replies, holding him tighter. "Relax. You've gone so tense. I was just checking, I promised I'd always be here for you. I want to always be here for you,".

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, feels his body relax again. Madelyn plants soft kisses on the back of his neck. 

"I will never leave you," 

* * *

Madelyn wasn't in bed when he woke up. The sun is shining through the window, the smell of bacon and eggs cooking down stairs made his stomach growl. He remembers they skipped dinner last. It didn't take him long to scramble out of bed and go downstairs to the kitchen.

She's wearing nothing but a T-shirt and making them breakfast. He burns the sight of her into his memory, searing it in there until he draws his last breath.

"Morning," she greets him smiling. "Breakfast is almost ready. I knew the smell of it cooking would wake you,".

"Actually, the bed being empty woke me. The smell of the food let me know you hadn't run off and left me," Homelander says, he's semi serious and semi joking, and they both know it. 

He couldn't deny for a brief moment he'd panicked she had gone even though it was her home, her whole life was here and she'd never walk away from Vought. She doesn't say anything because there is nothing to say that she hasn't already said a thousand times before.

Madelyn finishes cooking. Dishes up their breakfast. "Eat up we can't be late this morning," she urges, taking a sip of coffee. "That means when I go up stairs to get dressed I actually need to get dressed without any distractions,".

He grins and she mock' glares. "Baby, I'm serious. Neither of us can be late today and I have to take the car, you can't fly me there for the third time this week. People are beginning to get suspicious,".

Homelander holds his hands up in surrender. "I promise I won't distract you this morning not that you ever complained when I do, but that's not the point. We will both be on time this morning,".

"Good," 

  
  
  



	8. Chase Away The Ghosts

The rage bubbles inside him, the ghosts of his past whisper in his ear, form images inside his head that he'd rather forget; he's a small child again in that room, and he reaches out, but no one comes. 

He cries, and no one comes. When people do notice him it's never to offer love or lavish him with attention, their attention is cold and clinical, harsh and cruel on a child who just wants to be loved or held.

Everything is pristine, sterile, and colourless. Cold. The smell of bleach fills his nose until it makes it burn, acid fills his mouth, spoonful after spoonful fed to him until he gags. 

There is no love or affection, no warm words just "Drink it,". 

He tries to drag himself to the present where the world is warm and full of colour, but he can't. The ghosts have him bound in the memories of the past, unwilling to let him go.

The more he remembers, the more he feels angry, angry and helpless. Homelander doesn't know what let the ghosts of his past free, he keeps them chained up most of the time deep inside his mind.

He had to otherwise he'd never be able to survive; he'd crumble into nothingness underneath the weight of it all.

Something, inside him, says "Find Madelyn, she can make this better,". The thought of finding her makes the pain lesser, the knots in his stomach, the claws of the ghosts grip gets looser on his heart. 

* * *

Madelyn had cancelled completely or rearranged her meetings for another day for the rest of the day. If anyone at Vought had an issue with it, no one was voicing it. She hadn't told him what excuse she'd used, he hadn't asked because he didn't care. 

They were at her house,her attention was solely focused on him, and nothing else.

Homelander couldn't put into words what was wrong. He couldn't voice to her what he needed, but he didn't need to. Madelyn could sense his pain, sense that only she could make it go away.

The TV was on, neither one was paying attention to it, it was just background noise. They are lying on the floor on cushions, his head is resting on her stomach while she plays with his hair. 

He breathes in her scent, a mixture of fabric softener and her perfume. Lavender and chanel no five.

"In a little while, I'll run you bath," Madelyn informs him, her voice gentle yet authoritative. It's the tone of "I know best, let me take care of you". He nods his head

"A nice warm bath will help you to relax,".

He just nods his head in agreement. 

"I want bubble bath," he mumbles, Homelander knows if the rest of the world could see him now like this, curled up against her and demanding a bubble bath they'd likely laugh. Not that cared what others thought. 

"Whatever, you want, baby," Madelyn soothingly replies. "I'll use the cherry scented one that makes multicoloured bubbles I know it's your favourite,".

She's speaking to him as if he were a lost, indecisive child and in he felt like one. He didn't just want her to take care of him at this moment, he needed her to do it.

* * *

The water is warm; the bubbles are every colour of the rainbow. He is submerged in colour, not drowning in sterile white and Homelander loves it. Madelyn bathtub is big and deep enough that he can me freely, soak and relax with ease in it.

Madelyn had earned more than enough to have her home designed the way she wanted. Put her stamp and style on everything.

On the bathroom ceiling are painted stars with purple space background. Madelyn had done herself, she told him once that before it was dull fading blue. Boring to look at some she redecorated it, he finds staring at calming but also loves the beauty of it.

He likes to pretend he is in the ocean under a night sky in a new world. 

Madelyn was right about taking a bath to relax, but then she usually was about these things. 

It was strange even though she was only downstairs, he missed her. He felt her absence. 

Homelander had wanted her to take a bath with him, but she had refused; when he had pouted and looked hurt she gently lifted his chin until he was looking her in the eyes, "I'm preparing something special for you. A treat, now go and take a bath,".

As he pops yellow bubbles, he's relaxed, pining for her, and excited for the unknown treat all at once. The ghosts of memories that had plagued him earlier in the day are drifting further and further away from his mind. 

* * *

Homelander's head rests on Madelyn lap; she explains to him that she had brought him a baby bottle, and that she would like to feed him. That she thinks he would enjoy it.

"What's in it?" He asks, eyes wide in awe and he feels something he can't explain right now. It's a mixture of want, acceptance, and need. 

A need he didn't know he had until this exact moment, but she had like she always knew what he needed.

"A fusion of baby formula and vanilla milkshake," Madelyn replies, placing a cushion underneath his head and on her lap before reaching over onto the coffee table and grabbing the baby bottle. "Now open up,".

He happily accepts the teat into his mouth, greedily his teeth tug on it to get more. The sensation of warm milk and vanilla in his mouth, makes him sigh with happiness.

"Slow down," Madelyn tells him gently, one hand stroking his face. "If you drink it down too fast you'll either get a stomach or be sick,".

He breathes through his nose, his mouth firmly latched around the rubber nipple; he sucksles gently now because that's what she had told him to do.

The milk fills his mouth. He swallows it as if it is the only thing that will keep him alive, if were to stop he'd shrivel up into nothingness and die.

"That's it," she cooes, smiling down at him. "Good boy,".

* * *

He's sleepy. His stomach is full. Homelander feels' warm and content. Safe. Madelyn places a kiss on his forehead. They are in her bed now, her arms around him as he nuzzles into her. It won't be long until he falls asleep, he can feel himself drifting off with every second that passes.

She doesn't press him about earlier, what happened or why he needed her like he had all day.

Homelander is grateful that she doesn't because he even now, soothed and content he wouldn't be able to tell her.

He can't put into words how she fought away his ghosts, brushed them away. Dragged him back to the present, away from the cold into the warmth.

The words "Thank you," or "I love you," don't come out of his mouth because he doesn't know how to say them either. Homelander hopes she knows even though he can't say it.

She certainly knows that he needs her, but that's not the same as love or knowing that's what he feels for her. Madelyn never uses the words ``I love you," either but most of the time he's certain that's what she feels for him. If she didn't then why would she do all the things she does for him.


	9. And our enemies kneel

"Madelyn, you aren't going to let him do this are you!" Jack cries out, as Homelander forces the senator to kneel on the floor. 

The senator is going to die, he knows it, Madelyn knows, and Homelander knows it. It's like fire is hot, water is wet it's one of those things that just is, and his impending death is one of those things that just is.

Homelander finds Jack begging Madelyn for his life amusing; mercy isn't something she would ever give to someone who has crossed her. The senator knew this, so why beg? It only made him look like a fool, weak, but if he wanted to spend his last moments on earth that way Homelander wasn't going to stop him.

"How many chances have I given you, Jack? I ask so little of you, but you fail me each time. I forgave those failures, yet you have the nerve after my generosity to sabotage my bill," Madelyn rants, Homelander can't deny he's captivated at the sight of her like this. 

Cheeks flushed red with fury, eyes burning with rage yet she's still in control. The anger doesn't control her, she controls it which makes it worse when she unleashes it.

Her tongue flickers briefly her lips, those are the same lips she's presses into his forehead, trail down his neck. But any moment now they'll open and she'll order the senator's death.

He'll obey willingly, after all, she does so much for him how could he not give something in return.

"You screwed me over, Jack. I can't let this go, I need someone in your position that's useful to me, which means I need you out of the way to put them there,".

"I'll resign," Jack offers, Homelander lets out a snort of laughter. Gripping onto Jack's shoulders to keep him in his place.

Madelyn let out a sigh as she ran her fingers through her hair. "You wouldn't your not the type, but even if you did you know far too much and sooner or later you'll talk to someone. Out of greed or fear. No, the only option left is your death. I would say it hurts me more than it's going to hurt you, but that would be a lie,".

Jack has tears streaming down his face, big fat tears. He looks pathetic, Homelander thinks to himself. Did he really think she'd change her mind over a few tears? 

"Leave his face untouched," Madelyn orders softly, head resting against Homelander's arm. "But the rest of his body, break and bruise every inch. Send a reminder to those that are thinking about crossing us this is the consequences. I'll be outside in the car waiting for you,".

* * *

"You have blood on your face," Madelyn comments, as he gets her into the car. He prefers flying, but she was insistent that they drove there and back. "Let me wipe it off,".

She reaches over, her thumb damp with spit and wipes away Jack's blood with a smile on her face. Her softness with him, should never be mistaken as her being weak or kind; it should be seen a rare precious thing that she would never offer anyone else. 

"You know the pricks on eighty two are going to have a field day when they find out about Jack," Homelander tells her, as she starts up the car. The revving is like a cheese grater to the eardrums because of enhanced hearing, but he grits his teeth and bares the discomfort.

"He was a liability, Vought doesn't need him. Anyway, they don't need to know of our involvement," Madelyn replies, lips twitching in a smirk. She has that look which is a cross between angelic and demonic, the one where he can't quite tell what she's up too or planning next. "Do you really think I wouldn't have everything planned out before we did this?".

"Tell me," he demands with an almost whine to his voice. He wants to know, he hates it when she doesn't tell him everything right away. The fact he sounds like a child whining for his favourite amuses Madelyn.

"Jack was laundering money for a lot of different drug cartels, now someone put word about his was about to turn snitch. Everyone will think that this was done by them," Madelyn answers, driving slowly up the road. She was in no rush to get home, enjoying the ride home. "Especially, since he had a price of 2 million dollars on his head and someone will claim that,".

Madelyn always plans these things so that those she wants to know it was her, the ones she wants to terrify. The people she wants to keep in favour with she always manages to keep it hidden. It shouldn't still, but every time she does it amazes Homelander.

He isn't shocked by Jack's level of corruption, his greed ran as deep as incompetence. Both were the reason he was dead. Homelander can't help, but feel pride at what he'd done to the senator. Not the killing part because even the average person could kill,but how beautifully he'd done it.

"What type of wreath do you think I should send his wife?" Madelyn asks, switching on the radio with one, the other on the steering wheel and her eyes on the road ahead.

"You know I'm not good at picking those types of things," Homelander replies, not pleased that she'd picked country music but willing to accept it because it's what she liked. "I also think it's amazing given you had me kill him that you would send a wreath to his wife. I can picture you reading a sad speech at his funeral next,".

Madelyn laughs. Sweet gentle laughter that shouldn't match the subject they are talking about, but does. "I actually have the speech written out already. And why wouldn't I send a wreath? I am godmother to his children, close friends with his wife. It'd look suspicious if I didn't,".

  
  



	10. Bonded by sins

**_I breathe in the scent of your sin like a thirsty man drinks water._ **

Madelyn has dirt and blood on her cheek, her lips twitch in a smirk as she takes a sip of whisky. Homelander doesn't know where she's been or what she's done, but he doesn't care as she sits in the chair while he sits on the floor, head resting against her knee. The lights are dim low, the fireplace is roaring although it's not that cold outside. Inside the flames something material burns. 

The iron smell of blood clings to her, the scent of her perfume and sweat, cigarettes, with a hint of dirt and grass. He breathes in the aroma, eyelids twitching and he likes the way she smells at this moment. Death and sin, nature and warmth. 

He wishes he could bottle that scent, spray it when he didn't have her close. 

**_Your touch burns my soul. Your touch soothes it. What kind of magic is this?_ **

Her fingers caress his cheek. It's an instinct for her to do it; it's an instinct to cherish every moment of contact. Dried blood stains her light blue varnished nails. He wants to ask about her day; he wants to know every detail but his body and soul burns at her touch. Yet it also soothes him at the same time. 

They had been a part twelve hours yet to him that had seemed like a thousand years; he wonders if she had missed him even half as much he had her.

When he doesn't have her close there is only emptiness; when they are in the same room, but can't touch, it's torturous for him. The only time he felt whole was moments like this, when his soul burned, when he is soothed and content. It was the strangest thing. But then, everything about them by everyone else's standards was strange.

**_The truth and lies are spoken so softly, but they nourish me._ **

"Did everything go like it should today?" She finally asks her voice so soft and warm. Yet there is a strange element in that has never been there before. 

He's not sure if he likes it or fears it or is just grateful to hear her speak. There are times when the silence between them is magical, but then there are times like today when he craves that speaks to him.

"Mostly, yes. Everything went okay," He replies, looking up to see her eyes boring into his. It's the truth. Those he needed to save, he. Those they needed dead, were. "How was your day?".

"Uneventful," Madelyn lies, stroking his hair. "Uneventful," she repeats the word and he's not sure who she's trying to convince herself or him.

"My car wouldn't start this morning which was a bit of a hassle, but other than uneventful is how I would describe it,".

"You have blood on you," Homelander whispers, it's not spoken in judgement or approval or questioning, but as a fact. Something, that simply is.

"You have dried blood in your hair," she shoots back. He could have sworn he'd gotten rid of all traces of the events of his day before meeting her. "So seems we both had a normal day,".

**_We are both drenched in sin; neither of us can judge._ **

**_"_ ** I thought I'd cleaned off all the blood. I must have missed it going in my hair," Homelamder tells her, his lips doing something between a pout and a scowl. "I hate it when it gets in my hair,".

"I know. But I've always found it makes your hair softer," she comments, taking strands in between her fingers. "I've also found makes your skin smoother and softer,".

There is something in her eyes that intrigues him, something animalistic and whatever had happened today she enjoyed it. Thrived off it. 

He can imagine her heart beating fast in excitement, cheeks flushed pink as the blood splashed on to her cheek. There is not another person either one could sit with and show their real selves to other than each other.

"You smell wonderful," Homelamder tells her, his nose pressing into the bare flesh of her leg. "Whatever, the uneventful thing you did today created a wonderful scent. You do it more often,".

"You would think that," Madelyn laughs, just briefly biting her bottom lip. "But then again your enjoyment of it is no different than the pleasure I get from the softness of your skin or hair from blood,".


	11. Everything I do

"Everything I did, I did for you," Homelander explained, looking at anything but her; he can sense the anger rolling off her as she sits in her chair. Her arms folded across her chest, foot wiggling in irritation. "It backfired, and I messed up, I'm sorry,".

Part of him sorry or more sorry about that he caught, part of him he thinks she has no right to be angry with him. Homelander had only done it for her, he thought it would make her happy yet here they were. 

He can feel her eyes boring into him even though he refuses to meet her gaze. Homelander shifts uncomfortably; it feels like forever until she eventually speaks. "I know you did it for me, but that doesn't make it okay. You cannot be bad like that,".

Homelander squirms outwardly, but inside he's much worse. His stomach coils and knots, his heart beats wildly at her disappointment. 

The inside of his mouth feels dry; he wants to protest and stand his ground, he wants to apologise and nuzzle into her. He's torn and confused, angry and lonely. Unsure whether he wants to laser the fuck out of someone or cry. She was supposed to be proud not disappointed. 

"But I'll fix this mess like I always do," She sighs, he can feel anger lessening somehow. "Just next time go rogue or at least make sure you don't leave a trace that gets you caught,". 

He eventually looks up at her, meeting her eyes. Homelander gulps as he sees them alive with anger that is seeping away, but not fast enough for his liking.

"Do you need me to do anything?" Homelander asks in a small voice, she shakes her head. He doesn't like this. It's funny when others disappoint her, he relishes in it but when it's him it feels like he's being disemboweled from the inside.

* * *

He thinks that Madelyn might have forgiven or at least she's calm enough to indulge him when he asked to watch her paint her nails. She paints them to black, then adds little white hearts. 

Homelander finds watching her do this fascinating; each step she takes, each detail is precise. Her tongue sticks out the edge of her mouth in concretion. It's little moments like this that he cherishes greatly.

Once she's finished, and her nails are dry, Madelyn lets him pick which hand cream she should use. Homelander picks the lavender scented one; it's not as expensive as her peach scented one, but it leaves her skin just as smooth, and he prefers the lavender smell.

"Madelyn," he says in a soft, almost childlike voice. "Will you feed me from the bottle tonight?".

He usually let's her suggest it as a reward, but Homelander needs this not as a treat for being good, but as reassuranction that she still cared despite his screw up. Homelander watches her ponder the question for a moment before answering "Yes, but after I've finished some paperwork and I'm waiting for a phone to deal with the situation from earlier ,".

Homelander is glad she's stopped calling it "Your screw up,". It's what she means when she says "the situation," but that sounds less harsh, she says gentler too.

"Can you wait until after then?" She asks, tucking a strand of her hair behind her hair.

"Yes. You know I am sorry about earlier," Homelander says then fixing his eyes once again on her hands.

"I know," she responds, not angrily or harshly, but with an air of tiredness.

* * *

Homelander had waited for what felt like forever until Madelyn was free. Other days he would have pouted about the wait, but today he knew if he pulled that move she'd found something else to busier herself with and make him wait even longer.

"Open up," Madelyn urged, placing the rubber nipple at his lips. He eagerly accepts the teat into his mouth. Homelander feels the milk fill his mouth, he lets out a happy content sigh. 

His head rests on her lap like it has thousands of times, he stares at her nails, and loves the black and white hearts, but tomorrow he hopes she chooses red and blue; his colours.

"Now drink slowly I've told you this so many times," Madelyn softly scolds, gently stroking his cheek. "You're getting so disobedient lately. I think it's because I spoil you,".

He gently shakes his no at that, although they both know she's speaking the truth. Her lips twitch into an amuse smile.

Homelander's suckles become slower now. Not just to please her, but because he doesn't want this moment to end. The sweet taste of milk in his mouth, the softness of her fingers trailing down his cheek, but more importantly the way she looks at him with softness. It's much better than anger and disappointment. 

"See that's better. Everything goes so much when you're a good boy and listen to me," she comments with a smile. There is warmth in her eyes that makes his heart skip a beat. It thrills him, it nourishes his soul.

As he lies there,  he can't help recall the feeling of Lucy Diseworth's heart beating in his hand. The look of horror on her face as she died. He hadn't wanted to kill her, but the undercover journalist had discovered too much of what truly went on at Vought.

He hadn't meant to get caught on camera doing it, that had been his screw up and Madelyn had been forced to make the footage go away. Pay off the right people, whisper in the ears of the right people. None of which would have happened if he'd let her handle the situation. His intentions had been good though, he had wanted to prove to Madelyn that he could make her life easier. That he could do something for her for once, but it had backfired spectacularly. 

Something, in his face must show he's thinking about what happened because she rubs his back gently and murmurs "It's over and done with, what's done is done. I'll fix it like I always do, okay,".

"I'm not angry or disappointed anymore. It was just an unexpected thing to have to deal with,". 

He breathes a sigh of relief.  
  



	12. Lie with me

Homelander hated visiting hospitals; they look sterile, they smell of bleach and blood, sweat and sorrow; it brings up memories of his childhood. It reminds him of his years in the lab.

He wouldn't be here if it were anyone else other than Madelyn lying in that bed.

She's sleeping; her skin is pale, and she looks fragile. Madelyn is usually such a good driver; he doesn't buy she came off the road, bullshit that Vogelbaum told him. Why was he even in the car with her in the first place? 

There is a bruise forming on her cheek. The sight of it makes him frown as he gazes at her. It stands out more because of how pale she looks right now.

He brushes a strand of hair from the other cheek. 

Madelyn had been pregnant; he knows this because he'd overhead Vogelbaum asking whether she'd lost it or not. Homelander was confused about how the hell it possible when he couldn't have children; he was certain she hadn't slept with anyone else. Yet she had been pregnant; she had a miscarriage.

He wanted to ask her so much when she woke, his confusion and curiosity was currently doing battle with his concern for her. 

Homelander knows if he were to press Vogelbaum he'd spill his guts out of fear, but the thought of talking to him makes him want to throw up. He always would prefer to hear the truth from her than the man who ruined his life.

* * *

Madelyn discharged herself from the hospital in the night while he was Vought towers. He hadn't wanted to leave her, but visiting was long over, and the nurse had bent the rules as far as she could. It had been a shock to him when he turned up in the morning to find she'd gone home against her doctor's advice.

It didn't take him long to get to her home or into it. He found in her bed, wide awake on her laptop; when she saw him hovering in the doorway Madelyn smiled at him.

"You can come you know," she tells him before eyes return to the laptop screen. "The nurses told me you visited me at the hospital yesterday,".

"First off, you should be resting," he sees her eyes roll and hears her sigh the moments the words leave his lips. "Secondly, yes I came to visit you. I was worried,".

For a minute or two she ignores him, typing away on her laptop. He clears his throat, still she ignores him. Homelander isn't sure if she's doing it because she wants to catch up on work or avoid the questions he hasn't asked yet.

"Who was the father of the baby you lost?" Homelander asks, softly and he sees her fingers freeze mid type. For less than a fraction of a second, she doesn't move or breathe.

"That I'm unsure. Someone on eighty two picked the sperm donor," Madelyn replies, there is an iciness in her voice. He can sense this a subject she had wanted to avoid. "Before you ask Vought often asks it's employees to have babies, some raise them, some put them up for adoption. It usually happens when they feel the quota for future supes is down,".

He knows she's telling the truth by the slight wobble of vulnerability that creeps into her voice. Homelander knows if Madelyn could have hidden it she would have.

Homelander can't deny that he's a tiny bit pleased she lost the baby. The thought of another man's baby growing inside her, her cradling the thing in her arms after it was born, her loving it fills him with rage, jealousy, and sadness.

He knows he shouldn't feel that or think, but he does.

"Are you feeling, okay?" He asks, after the silence between them stretches out to long.

"Top of the world," Madelyn sarcastically replies then sighs. "Sorry, I'm just a bit tired,".

"Then rest. Put the laptop down and rest," he responds. He knows he loves her work, but there were times when she needed to put herself first. This was one of them.

She glares at him, a flicker of a wince graces her face when crosses her arms.

* * *

He had finally managed to persuade her to put the laptop down and lie down. "Lie beside me?" Madelyn asks gently after a while of trying and failing to fall asleep.

Homelander nods his head, takes off his boots and lays by her side. He's scared to touch her in case she breaks, he's terrified to nuzzle into her like he normally would.

He's never fully knew how fragile she was until this point. 

The bed smells like lavender, the sheets are fresh which means she must have changed them. He wonders how much energy it cost her to do it.

She reaches out for him, despite being apprehensive he can't deny her what she wants at this moment. He wants to feel her body against his, the warmth and the gentleness as she holds him like normal.

After a while, she begins to stroke his hair and hums. He doesn't know the tune, but he likes it. Homelander fully relaxes against her, if she's uncomfortable or he's hurting she doesn't say it, nor does it show on her face.

"What were you humming?" He asks, once she stops. 

"I don't know the name of it. I just remember my aunt humming it a lot when she would visit as a child," she replies. "I don't even know what made me think of it let alone hum it,".

"Did you like your aunt?" He wants to know more about her family. She never speaks about them normally.

"I guess or at least I respected her. She wasn't weak, she was ambitious. She was the perfect balance between gentle and vicious," Madelyn explains before letting out a yawn. "She died in a car accident when I was fourteen,".

Homelander can't help thinking how similar her aunt sounded like her. He wonders if they looked alike in anyway. If Madelyn looks like her mom or dad or neither.

  
  
  



	13. Storm

The thunder hurts his ears. To Madelyn its a bunch of loud claps, but to him, it's like having someone screaming directly in ears while playing the drums as another person rams scolding hot needles into his eardrums.

He tosses and turns in bed in discomfort at the noise. Madelyn looks at him with worry; he's never been this restless during a storm before. Homelander doesn't know why this one grates on his nerves so much, but it does. 

Maybe because they aren't at her home or Vought towers, but a hotel room. He had his own room, a room across from hers and that's where he should be. He should be in that bed, but both had known from that get go that was never going to happen. Although Madelyn had for all of five minutes tried to persuade him.

Sure, they were running the risk of publicly being outed as a couple, but he didn't care. He didn't want to be on this trip in the first place.

She kisses his forehand; she kisses the tip of his nose, then softly kisses his lips to try and calm him; it does for a moment. The softness of her lips for a fraction of a second each time drowns out the noise. 

A flash of lightning outside lights up the room briefly. Homelander thinks for only a moment that tonight's weather is like that in the horror movies Translucent loves watching so much. The thought, however, is quickly lost when Madelyn once again plants a kiss on his forehead.

The smell of lavender and candy floss clings to her skin. He breathes it in; his eyelids twitch, he smiles. Another roar of thunder hits as her fingers trail down his cheek. He's glad he's with her and not alone. 

"My poor baby," she cooed softly, "You can never escape the noises of the world, can you?".

He shakes his no. Because it's the truth. He hears more than everyone else, every noise more louder and harsh, all at once.

"You know if I could take it away from you I would without a moment's hesitation," Madelyn tells him, he thinks she's being genuine.

* * *

He's not sure when he fell asleep, but he had. Homelander isn't sure what he was dreaming about whether it was pleasant or a nightmare only that he was pissed off at being woken up by knocking at the door.

Homelander peers through the wooden door as if clear glass, Ashley stands there in her dressing gown looking half terrified and half exhausted. Madelyn let out a groan of annoyance at being woken up. 

"It's Ashley," he whispers to her sleepily. 

"Miss Stillwell, we have a problem," Ashley says softly through the door. "Homelander has gone missing,".

Ashley bites her lip, she taps her foot. Homelander feels sorry for her slightly because she's clearly worried she's about to get screamed at.

"Shit. She must have gone to see if you needed anything," Madelyn mumbles to him before telling Ashley through the closed door "He's probably gone flying. He does that, but you don't have to worry he can be relied on to not get in trouble and turn up for the meeting tomorrow. Go to bed,".

Homelander has to bite the inside of cheeks to stop himself from laughing. 

"Okay," Ashley responds. "If you're sure he'll turn up,".

"Oh, I'm sure he'll turn up alright," Madelyn says looking directly at him.

Homelander watches Ashley walk away, he hears her sigh of relief as she enters her own room. It's at that moment he lets out a small snigger that makes Madelyn glare at him.

"It's not funny," Madelyn tells him, half heartedly sternly. "I've told you before until I have control of Vought we can't public, those higher up would never accept it. Which means we have to be careful,".

"I don't fear those pricks," he huffs, resting his head on her shoulder. "Anyway even if Ashley had burst into here she wouldn't have said anything. It's a toss up who terrifies her more me or you,".

He looks at the clock, it's only two am, they should go back to bed. For a moment silence stretches out between them while it's only a moment it feels like a lifetime to him.

"Would you really prefer that I dealt with that storm on my own?" Homelander asks, ensuring his voice sounded as fragile as possible. "I mean if you don't want me here just say and I'll go to my room,".

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I want you here. Look it's late, I'm tired and was having the greatest night's sleep before Ashley woke me; and I'd like to get back to sleep and not argue, okay," Madelyn replies, trying to get into a comfortable sleeping position again.

He pouts for a moment for refusing to rise to his bait before settling down with her. Homelander catches her lips from a soft gentle smile from the corner of his eye.

* * *

Madelyn had fallen back to sleep; he hadn't. His head rests against her chest, he likes hearing her heartbeat. The rhythm of it is soothing. It's one of those sounds he doesn't find harsh, that he loves to focus on to try and drown out other sounds.

Homelander thinks that it might be four am now, but he's not sure and is too comfortable to check and confirm the exact time. The storm earlier had long past.

Even in her sleep Madelyn had learned to stroke his hair when he moved a certain way. It was instinct by now he thinks to himself. He doesn't particularly need comfort right now emotionally or physically, but he likes the gesture. 

Homelander like it because it can mean a million and one different thing, one gesture can mean so much and only the two of them would ever be able to translate what it meant.

She murmurs something, nonsense. He thinks it's her subconscious trying to verbally comfort him. It fascinates and pleases him that even in sleep she puts him first. 


	14. Rain

The rain is falling hard and fast as they run to find shelter from it; it's icy cold against their skin. Madelyn starts laughing, warm hearty laughter as they dash through the rain. He enjoys that sound from her, that sound could make him go along with anything.

Homelander could have flown them somewhere warm and dry by now, but Madelyn wouldn't let him. "Even Gods have to walk in the rain sometimes," she told him before winking, putting her hand and dragging him along through the rain.

Of course, he could have just lifted her in his arms and flown them anyway, but if Madelyn wanted them to get drenched by the rain then that's what would happen.

Madelyn finds a tree for them to stand under, drops of rain still fall through the branches now and then. He can't stop staring at her face, cheeks pink from laughter and coldness; a drop of rain on the tip of her nose, and a smile that makes him want to kiss her, so he does. 

Homelander knows he shouldn't so publicly, out in the open like this where anyone could walk by, take a photo with their phone that would be trending within ten minutes of being posted, but her lips feel so soft and warm against his. Madelyn doesn't push him away; she indulges his impulse and kisses him back.

This moment is like heaven, he wishes that he could pause the world around them and just live in this moment.

When she breaks the kiss he feels the loss of her in a way that makes his heart ache. Homelander pouts, Madelyn just smiles and lovingly reaches up and strokes his cheek. "The rain will pass soon then we can go home and then you'll have me all to yourself without the worry of prying eyes,".

* * *

Madelyn sits smoking a cigarette in her chair. Her hair still damp from the rain. Homelander for once isn't sitting on the floor with his head resting against her knee. He stands in the doorway watching her, he wishes he were an artist so he could sketch or paint her like this

The rain still falls heavily outside, tapping against the window like tiny water bullets. Homelander is grateful that there is no thunder with it.

He notices as he looks around the room that it's a mixture of his stuff and hers lying around it. Homelander doesn't know when that happened, but somewhere down the line he'd unofficially moved into her home. He can't even remember the last time he slept at Vought tower. The others must have noticed he was never there anymore, but no one ever said anything.

"Tomorrow, I have to take a trip to Paris," Madelyn blurts out and drops on him out of the blue. "I'll be gone two days max. I know it's short notice, but I was only told earlier today and I can't get out of it," 

He looks at for a moment, she would have known this when they kissed in the rain and it occurs to him that she let him kiss her there to soften him up for now.

"What am I supposed to do without you for two days?" He asks with a pout. "Also why do you need to go to Paris?"

"Mr Edgar personally asked me to meet with a potential investor. I couldn't say no to him and if it were you, you wouldn't have either," Madelyn replies, taking another puff on her cigarette. She states it in a way that he knows no matter what he says or does she'll be going to Paris.

"As for being without me for two days. You'll cope, I'll write a list of everything you'll need to do for work. After work if you need something to do there are like a billion things around here that need doing,".

* * *

"Are you still pouting or would you like me to hold you?" Madelyn asks through a yawn, Homelander turns around to face her. He was definitely still pissed off she was leaving him for two days, but he wasn't going to deny himself being held because of it. 

Tomorrow night the bed will feel empty and strange without her in it with him. 

"You know I'll bring you something back from Paris. A treat you'll really like," she tells him trying to bribe him into being placated about the whole thing. "I don't know what yet, but I promise you it'll be epic,".

Homelander nuzzles into her, he absorbs the warmth of body letting it soothe him into submission. "Just something for me no one else. Like zero gifts even for your closest friends just me,".

Madelyn laughs at his demand. "You know if any other man made that request I'd push him out my bed before throwing him out of my house, but I don't know with you I find it either funny or adorable,".

"I am a superhero. I tackle and fight dangerous criminals. I am not adorable," Homelander responds, which just makes her laugh again. But he knows she's not laughing at him in a cruel way. 

"My love you are cute, adorable and in the nicest of ways, but only for me which is how I like it,". She murmurs before kissing his forehead.

He still isn't happy she's going away, but there is nothing he can do about it nor is there anything she can do about it either. Homelander knows he could pick at it and start an argument or enjoy the time they have before she leaves. He's decided on to enjoy being with her. 

Two days isn't that long, not really. It's just 48 hours or 2880 minutes or 172800 seconds that would pass in no time. He could cope without her for that long, he didn't like it, but he could do it. He finds himself drifting off to sleep with her arms wrapped around him. The rain falling outside softer than it had all day.


End file.
